We’ve added a South African correspondent for the World Cup. I linked his pictures in the comments section of today’s The Morning After, but wanted to give the full story behind the pics. My good buddy, we’ll call him “G,” here in Jacksonville is from South Africa and sent me the following this morning:
This is one of my best Mates back home who is a professional photographer. Read his quick email and then click on the link to see pictures of a street parade…African style.
Here’s the story behind the photos, and hopefully, we’ll be able to continue receiving reports from the heart of the World Cup throughout the next month!
This morning I was woken by the sound of a lonely vuvuzela. In a toneless, one-note rythm, it announced to the world that it is the day before the biggest sporting event in the world.
It was before 7 am and this musically inclined fellow was on his way to work, winding his way through the suburbs with soccer on his brain and a grin on his face.
As I pried my eyelids apart, and groaned my way into consciousness, the events of the day before came rushing back:
It is 11:50 am and the Sandton business district has shut down for an expected bus parade by Bafana Bafana.
Roads become rivers of yellow and green, dancing breaks out sporadically, and every second person is blowing on a vuvuzela. Sandton Gucci and Prada mommies dance next to burka clad muslim mothers and chuckling mafuta mammas. Kids stand on concrete bins, perch in trees, and even climb on top of cheerful metro police officer’s vans to get a better view of adult madness. Cars have been abandoned in the gridlock, drivers having joined the party, and offices along the sides of the road have hundreds of employees leaning off the balconies waving flags.
As I wound my way along through the soccer-mad mardi-gras, clicking away madly with my camera, my heart was pounding and my face ached from smiling. I dodged groups of 30 or so self appointed “gees administrators“, moved up and down the road with banners saying “Bafana Bafana we love you!” and “11 players, 1 heartbeat, one nation!” Every now and then they would stop and middle-aged makarapa-wearing CEO’s joined streetsweepers in dance and song: “Make the circle beeeega, make the circle beeeega!”
It was magic.
I am not going to say anything else, check out the pics on the link below…
What I will say is that if I am woken up not by melodious birdsong, but by a toneless vuvuzela every morning for the next 11 weeks… I will be ok with that.
Have a great day.